


Frosted

by RedTeamShark



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Author Chose Not To Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2019-09-12 03:37:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16865413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: “Let’s play Frosty the Snowman” was a joke right up until it wasn’t.





	Frosted

**Author's Note:**

> Proper warnings, tags, etc, may come in the future. For the time being I'm frantically transferring my content to a stable platform amidst growing concerns about tumblr's inevitable implosion.
> 
> Apologies for flooding the fandom page.

By all rights, it should have at  _least_  been Kerry instead of him, Gavin grumbled in his head as he followed Michael and Ray to the Puerto Rican’s apartment. But Kerry had the excuse of being over at Miles’ place for another writing session and Gavin had the misfortune of being with Michael and Ray when the subject of Frosty the Snowman came up.

He supposed if there was one thing to be grateful for, it was that they’d taken pity on his gag reflex and rejected the idea of Icky Cookie. Then again, if that was the level of gratitude he was at with his friends, maybe it was time to find some new friends.

Michael’s hand closed over his wrist, warm and more demanding than reassuring. “Not backing out of this one, right, Gavin?” He questioned with a grin, keeping the British man from just running away while Ray unlocked his front door. “Do we have to include money to make it more interesting?”

“I’m not backing out.” He hissed between clenched teeth, yanking his wrist free and heading into the apartment as Ray opened the door. The Puerto Rican locked the door behind him, ducking into his bathroom to get the hat from his closet while Michael and Gavin took a seat on the couch.

“Alright, so.” Ray began, spinning the hat in his hands as he entered the living room. “We all know the rules, right? Jerk off into the hat, last one to cum has to put the hat on. I swear to god, if you get jizz on my furniture you’re buying me new stuff.”

“Like there isn’t semen all over your furniture, Ray.” Gavin griped, causing Michael to snort out a laugh.

“Yeah, but that’s my semen. That’s totally okay.”

He set the hat down on the floor, looking between the other two. “So, uh…”

Awkward silence overtook them, none of the men quite wanting to make eye contact. Michael toyed with the front of his jeans, not yet unbuttoning or unzipping them. Gavin sat with his hands clenched between his knees, his eyes on the hat. Rocking back and forth on his heels, Ray stood in front of them, eyes on the ceiling.

“Fucking hell.”

Michael spoke first, getting to his feet and roughly unbuttoning his jeans, yanking the zipper down. He shoved the denim down to his knees, pausing to kick off his shoes before letting his jeans fall the rest of the way to his ankles. He stepped out of them, turning glares on Gavin and Ray. “Get your pants off, guys.”

Jumping slightly, Ray flushed, reaching down and undoing his shorts, slowly pushing them down his hips. He stepped out of them and tossed them aside, running a hand over the waistband of his briefs as Gavin began to wriggle out of his jeans on the couch.

None of them looked at each other as they stood around the hat in their underpants, hesitant to make the next move. Once again it was Michael who took the initiative, yanking his boxers down just as he’d done with his jeans. He reached over, tugging down Gavin’s and Ray’s underpants as well, both younger men making noises of protest and swatting his hands away. Still, they pushed their briefs down. Gavin set his hands over his crotch, shifting a little and glancing towards the blinds over the windows.

“Guys, this is—“

“Don’t talk while I’m trying to do this.” Ray cut him off and Gavin glanced over, quickly looking away. The youngest man was already stroking himself, though he didn’t seem to be getting particularly aroused. “This is weird enough without you talking.”

Michael had also fisted his soft cock, stroking and squeezing. He kept his eyes on the hat, lower lip clenched between his teeth in concentration.

Definitely not wanting to be last, Gavin began to stroke himself as well. His eyes slipped closed, trying to picture something much more arousing than standing in Ray’s living room with two of his best friends. Boobs were better. Boobs were a lot better. In fact, boobs were pretty great all around. He could get off thinking about boobs.

In the room, someone groaned. Gavin bit down on his lip, trying not to think about how that groan definitely sounded like Michael, trying not to think about how he now knew what Michael sounded like when he moaned. It wasn’t weird to know what your friends sounded like when they were getting off, right?

It wasn’t weird to start getting hard while listening to your friends let out little gasps and pants of pleasure… was it?

He hoped not, because that was exactly what he was doing. Gavin’s hand sped up on his cock, his eyes cracking open, darting a surreptitious glance around the room. To his surprise, Ray had his eyes open… and to his greater surprise, Ray was staring at him. Blatantly. The Brit flushed, squeezing his eyes shut again, trying not to think about that dark gaze trailing up and down his body. Trying not to think about the fact that Ray was jerking off and staring at him, trying not to think about how his cock jumped in his hand every time thoughts slipped through.

Ray licked his lips when Gavin’s eyes slammed shut again, shifting his gaze over to Michael and letting out his breath in a small huff, the sound covered as the curly-haired man groaned again. The oldest of them was hard in his hand, harder than he probably had any right to be, considering the circumstances.

He didn’t like to lose.

He wasn’t above playing dirty.

Shuffling over next to Michael, still stroking himself slowly, he settled his free hand on the other man’s wrist. Brown eyes immediately shot towards him, brows furrowed in confusion. Before the other man could ask what he was doing, Ray had pulled his hand over, pressed himself against his palm and wrapped Michael’s fingers around his dick. Someone else’s right hand felt just as good as his own, he decided, moving his hand over his friend’s in an effort to get the other man to jerk him off.

“Ray, what the fuck?”

The words caused Gavin to open his eyes again, widening as he took in the sight before him. Unaware that it was going to happen, he moaned, jerking his hips into his fisted hand. “Fuck, guys…”

Michael and Ray locked eyes, seeming to convey an entire conversation in the span of seconds. Letting go of his erection, the curly-haired man reached over, yanking Gavin closer and taking his wrist. Ray quickly replaced Gavin’s hand on his cock with his own, squeezing and stroking. Fumbling but seeming to understand what was going on, the Brit wrapped his hand around Michael’s length, moving up and down quickly.

They all had their eyes closed (or so they said, and who was really going to admit to being the one looking, anyways), so it was impossible to say just who kissed who first. Gavin felt warm breath on his face seconds before soft, wet lips met his own, a tongue pressing into his mouth and running slowly along his. He kept his eyes shut, some deep-down part of him liking the mystery of not knowing if it was Michael of Ray that was kissing him. His hand sped up slightly and he leaned forward when the mouth left him, meeting a different set of lips—dryer, slightly chapped—and this time allowing his tongue to invade the other man’s mouth in the kiss. He leaned back and groaned when Ray’s hand squeezed convulsively on his shaft, heard a wet sound that he supposed might be Michael and Ray kissing. His hips stuttered into the touch on him, another cry leaving his lips when a hand stroked up his inner thigh.

It seemed to occur to all of them at once how this was going to end, their hands stilling as their breathing grew heavier and their bodies moved without consent of their brains. Michael dared to peek an eye open, looking at the other two men and shivering slightly. Flushed faces, open mouths, cocks leaking pre-cum. He wasn’t faring much better.

Would he really be able to go to work and sit next to them every day, knowing what they sounded like when they came? Knowing that they knew what he sounded like? Was that something he could live with, really accept?

Gavin’s hand tightened on his dick for a moment before stroking again, rapidly. Michael moaned and decided that he could. His hips stuttered into the touch, right hand stroking Ray again, left hand leaving Gavin’s inner thigh in favor of cramming his fingers into his mouth, biting down in an effort to keep quiet.

Quiet was never his strong point.

Michael came with a shout, eyes squeezed shut, hand working on Ray’s dick as if it were his own. He stood panting as Gavin continued to stroke him, hearing the other two moan and gasp. Something warm splashed against his wrist, something else hit his thigh, and he didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to think about what was on his skin.

There was no way they’d be able to tell who came last, which was probably a good thing, because all three of them had completely missed jizzing into the hat.

Sweaty, flushed, and more than a little embarrassed, Michael and Gavin gathered their underpants and jeans, pulling them on quickly. Ray wriggled into his own clothes, trying not to think about the sticky mess on his stomach and thighs. Also trying desperately not to think about how his first instinct had been to lick the cum off his hand. At least neither of the others had seen him do it. They bid awkward goodbyes at the door, shuffling away and leaving Ray alone in his apartment.

Alone to think about the sight of Michael cramming a hand into his mouth and still being unable to cover his noises.

Alone to think about the sound of Gavin’s heavy panting as he shot streaks of hot jizz onto Ray’s wrist.

Alone to think about the taste of someone’s—Gavins? Michael’s? His own?—cum on his hand.

Alone to take his pants off again, fingers wrapping around his cock and squeezing once more.

It wasn’t weird, right?


End file.
